


Walking Far From Home

by imamotherfuckingstarlord



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Carl Grimes - Freeform, F/M, Fluff, Judith grimes - Freeform, Reader Insert, Walkers, daryl dixon - Freeform, rick grimes - Freeform, twd, walking dead - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:43:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imamotherfuckingstarlord/pseuds/imamotherfuckingstarlord
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Reader tries to let go of her painfull past, can Daryl help her overcome it all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walking Far From Home

The tequila sank into your lips as salty tears run down your face, the same song played over and over in your head. Resting your head against the wall of your cell, Carl walks by hesitates for a moment as your eyes meet. Smiley weakly at the young boy, you wonder how he does it. His mother was gone and he kept on moving, he kept on living. And here you were, a grown ass woman, sipping stale tequila; still crying over the past. But then you see those little green eyes staring up at you, his small lips form a smile and his grubby hands reach up to you. Lips quiver as your bring the nearly empty bottle to them; swearing under your breath, because this was the last bottle you had. Daryl and Glenn had found a few bottles on one of their runs, Daryl saved one for you.

That man was the most fascinating person you ever met, even from the very beginning when Merle and him were assholes that you could not stand. After everything happened with the CDC, the two of you bonded over the search for Sophia. You flat out refused to let Daryl hold you back from going on the search with him. He saw the look in your eyes, pleading with him; so he stopped complaining and let you be. No one knew why you were so eager to find the young girl ; no one knew your past, the son that you had. Daryl and you would split off from the group, leaving the farm early mornings to pick up where you had left off the previous day.  
“Do you think we’ll find her?” You wondered out loud on the first day, following behind Daryl; he turns shooting a hard glance at you, shrugging, “Ain’t nothing set in stone. But if she’s out there ‘live, we got her.” A smile escaped your lips, because you saw past that facade he held up; that tough exterior built from years of shit thrown at him. “I hope you’re right, losing a child. It’s the -” immediately yo shut your mouth, because you had said too much. Daryl stopped in his tracks, your eyes too focused on the ground that you bumped into his back. You linger for a moment, almost feeling the warmth from his body, before stumbling back. “Ya had a little one?” Willing yourself to not cry, you just nod hastily, moving to take the lead. He watched you walk several paces ahead, your shoulders trying to hold still; he kicked himself for asking.

And when Sophia came out of that barn, you cried along with Carol. You felt for her, because you knew the feeling; what it was like to lose a child. A little one that looked up to you and saw a hero. The mornings spent during those early years, at the park across the street, you’d swing him gently, singing that one song he loved to hear; his cries of joy filled your heart then. But as you stood there, watching Rick hold his gun up; you close your eyes tight, trying to remember your little boys laughter. And when the gun shot rang in the air, you realized then; you had forgotten. Opening your eyes to see Daryl holding back Carol, something moved inside you, a shift that you mistaken for heart ache. But life went on, the walkers came and you jumped on Daryl’s motorcycle and left the farm for good. You will never forget the feeling of the wind breezing through your dirty hair, arms wrapped around Daryl’s waist; giving the burning farm one last glance, hoping, praying foolishly that things would get better. You would go hunting with Daryl, walking in silence, just shooting knowing glances to one another, but your looks would always linger. Taking in the man, the way his eyes squint, his face so serious. But once in a while, the tracker would grace you with a small smile, one that was barely there. It was then,when those smiles showed themselves; you felt yourself coming to life again.

Then the group found the prison and life seemed like it might be just fine, but the things that lingered inside you, they were never fine. Because when the night fell upon the prison, Beth would sing softly, her voice echoing into your cell; and with the help of the tequila, you’d lose yourself. Sometimes the others heard you, the first couple of times Rick would come to you; kneel down beside you, but with a sad smile you’d ask him to go, “Rick, it’s okay. I’ll be fine in the morning, just let me have tonight.” The man, who you trusted, who was family, he’d just nod before he let you be. It was that night, when Carl passed by, that Daryl walked into your cell. His silhouette stood at the doorway, leaning against the wall; an unlit cigarette in his mouth, “Was wrong with ya, girl?” You laughed, rolling your eyes, taking another swig from the bottle. “I’m no girl. I’m a grown woman, Dixon. I’m a -” his eyes watched you hesitate, the tequila was making you sweat, but also loosening your words, “I’m a mother with no little one.” You chuckle, letting the tears that threatened to fall, fall. Daryl looked behind him,before walking into the cell, settling on the floor against the bunk; his legs sprawled out next to yours. He removes the cigarette from his mouth, placing it behind his ear, his hair was getting long; catching yourself moving forward to touch it, trying to play it off by dusting your jeans, but he noticed.

Daryl sat silently, not one to mince words, he thought carefully before speaking, “A boy or girl?”  
“Max, today’s his birthday. He would have been 7.” You don’t bother to wipe the tears away, they steadily came, there was no stopping now.  
“Shit, sorry to hear that,” his voice was low as he reached for the bottle of tequila gripped in your hands, his fingers lightly graze yours as you release the bottle. That small touched warmed your whole body up, his touch lingered even after he pulled away.  
“Was it right when the world went to shit?” You shook your head, watching Daryl bring his lips to the bottle, slowly dipping his head to take a drink.  
“God, no. God, that would have been horrible. It was leukemia, he was 5,” biting your lip to prevent the sob that desperately wanted to escape, you look out the cell. Carol walks by, stopping for a moment; a smile on her face as her eyes move from you to Daryl. When she leaves, you shuffle for something in your jean pocket, a folded picture. Opening it, there are creases in the middle and across the photo, but it was just fine. Max was standing outside your house, a big smile on his face as he held up a basketball above his head. His brown wavy hair was in his face, but his smile was so wide. “Mom, take a picture of me! I’m going to be a basketball player when I grow up!” Daryl watches you stare down at the photo in your hand, tears falling down your face. He wanted to move to you, take you in his arms, but he didn’t know how. He was always watching you, always thinking about you. But Daryl didn’t know how to love someone, not the way you needed to be loved.  
“This is him. Right before we found out. He got sick and within in a year, he was gone.” Daryl takes the photo you hold out to him, one of his rare smiles escapes him.  
“Boy looks like you. And the dad? He gone, too?” Your fingers touches Daryl’s as he hands back the photo, leaving you wanting more.  
“He left after Max died. Left town. Left me.”  
Daryl shakes his head, “What kind of man leaves his wife like that? Shit’s cold.”  
You shrug, “I don’t blame him. Losing your kid, it changes you. David, he changed. He had to leave. I hope he made it, I hope he’s alive out there.” Folding the photo back up, you slip it back in it’s place.  
“Nah, he copped out. I wouldn’t have left ya.” Daryl’s words came out in a huff, the both of you froze; as the weight of his words blanket over the two of you. Neither of you say a word as his eyes meets yours. And then Daryl does it, he reaches for your hand.

The cool breeze feels refreshing as you settle down on the porch stairs, anxiously waiting for the group to get back from their run. You watch a few people walk by, each waving hello at you. You smile nodding, your fingers tugging on your jacket. Alexandria was proving to be a new start, even after the walker attack; things were coming along just fine. Your experience as a nurse had you in charge of the infirmary, making sure everyone kept healthy. It was a job that kept you inside the walls, but you itched to be out; to remember what it was like for your group. So there was times were you’d run off with a few others, going on runs, making sure your skills didn’t get rusty. You had to skip out on this run, because Judith was feeling sick and Rick had asked you to stay behind, to look out for her. Not that wouldn’t have, you loved that little girl like she was your own; it was you and Carl who helped deliver her at the prison. So you smiled widely as Carl walked up to you, Judith in his arms, “How’s she doing? How are you doing?” Carl shrugged, tapping the eye patch over his eye, “I’m good. She’s doing much better, I’m taking her over to Carol, were going to walk her around for a while.” You reach over to the toddler’s forehead, giving her a once over, you nod, “I’ll be here. I’m waiting for the group to come back.”  
Carl gave a sly smile, “You’re waiting for-” but the unmistakable sound of the roaring motorcycle cut off the teen’s words. He rolled his eyes as he walked away. You sat there, wanting to get up and go to the gate, but you held off. He would come to you, you’d be the first person he’d come to see. You see Rick round the corner, walking toward you; your heart jumped a beat, wondering if something went wrong. “Hey, Y/N. How’s Judith, she okay?” Relief washes over you, as you nod, letting him know she was fine and Carl had her. He thanked you as he took steps to walk away, but he stops, “He raced ahead of us, he’s just helping unload the van.” The man chuckles to himself, you watch him disappear around the corner ; you hear footsteps to your right.

“Hey, don’t tell me you waited here the entire time?” Daryl’s voice is teasing as you whipped your head towards him. He stood there, a genuine smirk on his face, “ Please, I have better things to do then -”  
Daryl takes a seat next to you, “Then wait for me, huh?” he scoffs, pulling out something from his jacket, “I found this on the run, some shitty lil’ gift shop.” He dangles a key chain in his hand, a little round basketball attached to a silver chain. You do not feel sadness anymore, as you take the little plastic basketball in your hand.  
Your thoughts roam back to the moment in the cell, when Daryl had reached for your hand and how the two of stayed like that for a while, until you felt tired. He had helped you to bed and when he moved to walk out, you grabbed his wrist, “ I’ll wait. I’ll wait until you’re ready. I’ll be here, Daryl.” Days after, weeks after, it was pretty evident to the whole group that something was happening between Daryl and you. Nothing over the top, but subtle touches here and there. Lingering moments in your cell, when neither of you thought anyone was looking. How the two of you insisted on going on runs together, because you both figured it was easier that way. And when the Governor came through, you were separated from Daryl, moving along with Tyrese, Judith, Lizzy and Mika. Eventually running into Carol and things went bad, those nights after Carol had to kill Lizzy, you tried to hold it together. You’d sit awake at nights, wondering where Daryl was, but knowing he was alive. He had to be, it was the only thing keeping you going, other then little Judith. Then Terminus happened, leaving Tyrese with Judith; Carol and you made a plan to get the group back.  
Everything happened so fast, as the two of infiltrated the compound, the entire time you hoped your family was okay and that Daryl was alive. Carol lead the way into a room, that was filled with different weapons and possessions, your eyes immediately went to a familiar item. Carol gave you a small smile as you grabbed the crossbow that belonged to the man you longed for. And when the two of you stumbled upon Mary, her little speech made you sick to your stomach, you moved toward the door, nodding to Carol. Several shots in Mary’s direction, the two of you escape passed the walkers and out of Terminus. 

You found a small spring, stopping to wash the walker muck off your face, tossing off the poncho that was soaked with walker blood. But voices call Carol’s attention, she nods for you to wait as she goes to look. You watch her, as you dry your hands on your shirt; deciding to go after her, gun in hand. As you come up toward the direction she had gone, you hear a familiar voice, “Was that you?” You see Ricks face as you get closer, “Me and Y/N. It was us.” Daryl’s wet eyes shot up, as everyone turns to the sound of your feet walking through the leaves. Glenn, Maggie, Michonne, Sasha, Bob, Carl and a few others you didn’t know. all stared at you. Tears filled your eyes at the sight of your people, but when your eyes meet those light blue eyes, it was all over. Your heart filled to the rim, as Daryl rushed to you, pulling you into his arms. You were safe at last, sobbing into his neck; his head dipped into the crook of you neck, feeling his tears on your skin. Slowly the two of you pulled away, unaware that everyone was watching, you smile through your tears, “I’ve been waiting for you, Daryl Dixon.” His misty eyes smile at you, as he leaned in and finally did what he wanted to do for so long, that he hoped he would get to do before he left this earth. Daryl Dixon kissed you.

You stared at the little basketball in your hand, Daryl was the reason you could breath again; he was the reason you could get up in the morning. He was also the reason you didn’t forget Max, the two of you would lay in bed; your head on his chest as he asked you questions about him. Daryl’s fingers would comb through your hair mindlessly, as he listened to you talk. Sometimes you’d cry as he held you close to his body, grounding you with the movement of his chest. But most of the time, there was laughter coming from your shared bedroom, reliving all the good times spent with your son. Those times were Daryl’s favorites, he’d watch you laughing into chest as he rubbed your back. In those moments, it felt the world was all right. That everything would be fine.

“So you like it or nah?” Daryl watched you for any sign of despair, but you smile at the man you loved.  
“I love it Daryl. You hungry? I am. Let’s go inside, I’ll cook something to eat,” standing up, your hand touches his shoulder as you walk to the front door, “Come Dixon, I’ve been waiting for you all this time.” Daryl rolls his eyes, trying to hide a laugh as he gets up. Your hand reaches out to his, Daryl stares at it for a moment, wondering how he got here. How this moment could even exist, when his whole life has been a shit. But then he looks at you, knowing life had been shit to you too. And now, the two of you had each other and nothing was going to break that. Daryl takes your hand in his and promises himself that he’d never let go.


End file.
